


Minor Inconveniences

by lil_aussie_girl



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: 11x03, Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Jezz/Hamster friendship, No Slash, TG-series11, hurt-comfort, sick-Hamster, sick-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-19 23:45:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17011437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_aussie_girl/pseuds/lil_aussie_girl
Summary: They say you're not supposed to get the flu in the summer. Well actually, as one member of the Top Gear trio was about to find out, it turns out you can. And it's just as unpleasant as ever.





	1. Hamster Down

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This monster was inspired by two sets of prompts on Tumblr; the first by grab-an-idea, and the second by anonyony1. Both (obviously) centered around sick-fics and prompts for such. So here we go! Probs will be a 3-4 chap fic this one, there's just one image that I can't get out of my head for the end, and I really want to write that.......but we gotta make 'em suffer first!
> 
> Disclaimer: Still don't own.......but would love to meet one day........*sigh*

They say you're not supposed to get the flu in the summer. Well actually, as one member of the Top Gear trio was about to find out, it turns out you can. And it's just as unpleasant as ever.

It had started with an awful cough that had kept him up most of last night, which meant that he had ended up oversleeping and had then arrived at Dunsfold Park almost an hour late (to much complaining and mocking from his two colleagues), nursing an aching chest and a pounding headache.

Still, could be worse.

It just so happened that they were in the middle of the studio recordings for the eleventh series of Top Gear and today they were shooting the studio segments for episode three. The films were great this week - Jeremy's road test of the Bentley Brooklands is as entertaining and mad as ever, the Alfa Romeo challenge just superbly brilliant as usual, and the guests they'd booked - Rob Brydon and James Corden - sure to be a treat for the audience both in the studio and at home.

By the time they were through with rehearsals, he felt awful. Once makeup had been applied and they'd changed into the clothes they'd present the show in, he felt even worse. By the time the audience arrived and they were getting ready to record, he was thankful that he wasn't needed until after the first film.

Just needed to get through today, he promised himself, and then they don't need you until Monday next week. Just get through today........I mean, come on......how hard could it be.......?

*****

Richard was beyond relieved when Jeremy finally called their guests to the stage for this show's 'Star in a Reasonably-Priced Car' segment, because it meant that he could disappear and possibly curl up somewhere dark and quiet and be left to die in peace.

No such luck with that last part, but he would take what he could get, and he forced his feet to move forwards in the direction of the door to the hangar.

Wincing as the bright, summer sun hit his face, he couldn't help but shiver a little as the breeze lifted his fringe off his forehead. Or maybe that was the chills that were currently taking over his body, he didn't know.

‘Of course I had to get sick on the one day we have a heap of studio stuff to do’, he growled to himself, suddenly hating the extra studio bit they'd added in the middle of the show (the bit they'd just filmed). It had taken more takes than usual thanks to a few mind-blanks on his part, which had made him feel even worse and he could see that it was making the crew and his co-presenters quite frustrated as well (which he also hated).

The end result was that he felt utterly dreadful, and wanted nothing more than to lie down and be alone so he could sleep forever.

Stumbling suddenly as a wave of dizziness overtook his vision as he walked, Richard caught sight of a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye as he straightened up, panting slightly. 

James had seen the way his friend had left the studio - with an unsteady gait and glistening, pale features that would put a ghost to shame - and he'd followed him outside. He'd been worried at how distracted and off he'd seemed during today's filming - particularly that last part - and had wanted to talk to him about it. Now, standing by the carpark and still watching, he was glad he had.

He still had to smile when Richard lifted his head and met his gaze for a moment before attempting to scowl at him and stalking unsteadily up the stairs and into the portacabin.

Rolling his eyes at his friend's blatant stubbornness, James waited a few seconds before following, catching the door on his way in as it nearly shut on his foot.

"Fancy a cuppa?" he asked lightly, deliberately not addressing his younger colleague's horrid appearance. Receiving a groan in response, he took that as an affirmative and began preparing the kettle and two cups.

He worked in silence, keeping one ear trained on any noises from his friend - who was currently slumped in one of the battered leather chairs on the other side of the cabin. The kettle whistled and he poured the boiling water into the first cup - licorice and honey tea, Hammond's favourite, he knew - before he took it over to his friend.

Richard barely acknowledged his presence, instead taking the cup off James with an almost inaudible "Cheers" and slowly laid back in the chair - looking nearly ready to drop off to sleep.

Going back to the kettle and pouring his own tea - Earl Grey - James sat down on the sofa next to the chair where Richard was currently slumped. Taking a sip of his tea, he took a closer look at his friend's face.

"Big night last night?" he wondered aloud, taking another sip while waiting for his friend to answer.

Richard winced, "I wish" he muttered in reply, closing his eyes and groaning softly as if in some discomfort. Laying his head back against the back of the sofa, he added "I didn't even go out last night."

Raising an eyebrow, the older man almost didn't believe him - his friend looked hungover, there was no other word for it. Pale, with the beginnings of bags under his eyes, his eyes themselves dull and exhausted, body language slumped and moving very gingerly as if afraid of causing pain or increasing the risk of vomiting, and frame shivering every so often as if it was the middle of winter.

Wait......shivering?

James' eyes narrowed as he watched Richard nurse the Styrofoam cup of tea between his hands as if he was savouring the warmest thing in the room. That was odd - odder even than having a cup of tea in the middle of summer (James supposed it was only sheer habit and the utter British-ness of the whole thing that was making them do it, rather than any sense). Every sip was taken tentatively and followed by a wince - as if swallowing was horrendously painful; and even in the warmth of the portacabin he still hadn't taken his leather jacket off - where James had shed his own as soon as they'd left the hangar.

Taking another sip of his own tea, he continued to watch his colleague out of the corner of his eye as they sat in silence. The fact that he was able to get away with this not-so-subtle spying was another worry to James; Richard was pretty observant, and he was usually quite quick to pick up on things - particularly if he's being watched. The fact that he was letting James watch him now without saying anything or complaining in the slightest was slightly worrying to the other man.

In truth, Richard had noticed James watching him, but he didn't have the strength to tell him to back off. He barely had enough to keep his cup of tea in his grip without spilling it or letting the cup drop to the floor.

James decided enough was enough when he caught sight of yet another pained wince on swallowing and also the shaking in his friend's hands.

"Alright Hammond, what's going on?" he demanded, putting his own cup down on the table beside his chair.

Flushing, and feeling his temperature rising yet again, Richard scowled at his cup, refusing to meet James' eyes. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Folding his arms crossly, James clearly wasn't buying it. "Don't think I haven't noticed; you're wincing like you've got knives in your throat every time you swallow, you look like a ghost, and you're shivering as well."

Grimacing, Richard stayed silent - he hated how observant James was sometimes.

"If I didn't know any better" James continued, leaning across and dropping his voice a bit, "I'd say you were sick."

"I am not!" Richard protested a little too quickly, but the effect was rather lost when he broke off coughing as his voice cracked. James watched him silently, almost looking smug, before he reached out and rested the back of his hand against his friend's forehead - humming thoughtfully as his suspicions were confirmed.

"Yep, that's a fever if ever I've felt one" he observed, pulling back and now looking at the other man beside him with concern and worry - his skin had felt much hotter than it should be when he'd touched it, and James suspected that his friend's temperature was probably somewhere in the 'very high' range.

Of course, Richard tried to deny it; "It's not a fever, I've been in the sun today - and it's summer, in case you've forgotten."

James just looked skeptically at him. "You haven't been anywhere near outside, Hammond, and it's not even that hot today - certainly not hot enough to make you feel like your forehead is being barbecued!"

Huffing, Richard swallowed the last of his tea and went to stand up and leave. "Whatever" he muttered, pushing himself up out of the chair and instantly grabbing onto the armrest, blinking and breathing very slowly and deliberately.

Frowning, James stood as well, walking over and putting a hand on his friend's arm. "You alright?"

"Mm......wow. I think I stood up too fast" Richard replied in a somewhat muffled voice, and now that James had hold of his arm, he could feel just how much it was trembling - though if that was from the fever or exertion, he couldn't be sure.

When it seemed that Richard had regained his balance, James let go and started to walk out of the cabin. He was slightly worried when he didn't hear the reassuring padding of cowboy boots tapping across old carpet behind him, and he turned around once again.

Expecting to see his friend just behind him, he was worried when he realised that Richard hadn't moved from his spot. The only thing that had changed - rather worryingly to James - was that his gaze had gone quite blank and almost like he was looking straight through him.

"Hey? You alright?" James asked, worry increasing when his friend just frowned at him, eyes starting to go a bit unfocused.

".....Why're there two of you?" His voice was now slurring a bit - like it did when he's had a few beers - and it was a few seconds before James managed to discern what he'd said.

Bewildered - and now very worried - he took a few cautious steps back into the portacabin. Then, without warning, Richard's knees buckled and his eyes rolled back in his head with a strangled moan. Leaping forward, James just barely managed to catch him before he landed head first into the coffee table.

"Cock" he cursed, lowering his limp friend down onto the carpet and kneeling next to his head. "Hey, wake up you Muppet" he hissed, squeezing the shoulder muscle under his hand like he'd seen a paramedic do once. It did nothing; his friend just lay there, totally unresponsive and feeling hotter with every moment that passed.

"Cock" James growled again, "Bloody cock."

Hastily arranging Richard's limbs into the recovery position, he pulled out his phone and sent an urgent text to Andy Wilman.

Need help in office. Hammond's collapsed - tell Jezz we'll be late back.

Closing his phone again, James quickly shrugged off his jacket, folded it into something resembling a pillow and placed it under his friend's head. His worry increased even further when he felt the heat of the skin - impossibly, maybe even hotter than it was not five minutes ago.

"Not sick, hey?" he muttered, standing and grabbing a Chux cloth from the sink and wetting it under some cold water. Returning to his spot, he let the cloth rest on his friend's boiling forehead - hoping it might help to lower his fever. "Not sick, my arse."

*****

"Ladies and gentlemen; James and Rob!"

The audience applauded cheerily and even let out a few whoops as the two men opposite Jeremy smiled and each shook his hand. 

Normally, the audience would continue applauding until they heard either James or Richard start the next link, where a camera would be already set up to film them and they could move on with the show. Today though, the audience seemed to be clapping for a good minute or so and no one was telling them to stop.

This confused - and slightly worried - Jeremy, who stood up and went to make his way over to where Richard and James were meant to be standing and delivering their lines for the re-introduction back into the Alfa film. 

When he arrived, however, he saw an empty space with a few bewildered and confused camera operators, a sound guy, and a few of the producers talking in hushed tones by the plinth with the famously-wrecked Hilux - Andy Wilman amongst them, looking very flustered and quite worried.

On spotting his friend approaching, Andy walked briskly over to him and - grabbing his arm - pulled him to the side, muttering for him to turn his microphone off. Confusion growing, Jeremy did so, and then Andy showed him the text from James. 

James: Need help in office. Hammond's collapsed - tell Jezz we'll be late back.

"Sent about a minute ago" Andy added quietly on seeing his old friend's face pale quite suddenly, just as he was sure his own had done when he'd read the message himself. "I was waiting for you to finish before we go over and find out what's what."

Jeremy didn't wait for permission - he turned and jogged out of the hangar, heading straight for the production office, his mind running through all sorts of horrible scenarios as he picked up speed. Andy groaned internally at his friend's protectiveness and worry - and cursed his own while he was at it - and followed him outside.

Leaping up the steps into the portacabin, he nearly threw the door open and almost tripped over James (who had been waiting for him at the door).

"Bloody hell, May!" Jeremy exclaimed, panting from both the fright and his run. "What the fuck's going on?!"

James held up a hand in an attempt to stall his panic. "Calm down, you big oaf; it's okay."

Jeremy stared at him, mouth open and probably about to say that if it was okay then why scare everyone with that text (or something along similar lines), but James spoke up first.

"He's just passed out - bloody moron's gone and gotten himself sick and just collapsed from the fever, that's all" he explained in a matter-of-fact tone, although both Jeremy and Andy - who had just arrived - could hear the concern in its undercurrents.

"Sick?" the taller man repeated, eyes immediately shifting to their unconscious colleague and his mind flying back through the day's events and trying to recall any clues that might have been left.

James nodded wearily, "Yep; of course, he tried to deny it but then we went to go back to the studio and he just collapsed. Had to stop him falling into the table on the way down - and might I add how heavy he is?" 

Andy walked around the pair of them and knelt down next to their friend, feeling his forehead for himself and a worried frown appearing on his face when he felt the heat under his fingers.

"How long's he been out?" he asked quietly, removing his hand as Richard's eyelids fluttered at his touch.

James looked at his watch, then shrugged. "Probably about thirty seconds before I sent you that text" he replied, before adding "So about two or three minutes."

"And you didn't think to call an ambulance or the medics, because......?" Jeremy began, expression starting to look a bit incredulous.

Recognising the tone of his voice, James turned and met his eyes very carefully. "Because - and you know this as well as I do - people pass out all the time, and it's not something to always call 999 for. Especially if it's something that's easily fixed like this." He wasn't yelling, but his voice was conveying his frustration all the same. 

Jeremy sighed, he knew James was right of course; he just felt so protective over all three of his friends, and he always hated when one of them was sick or hurt. "If he stays out much longer though, then I'll be calling them myself" he promised, and James nodded in agreement.

"It's pretty obvious what's caused him to pass out" he continued gently, voice softening and putting a hand on Jeremy's shoulder, "and so I think the best thing is to try and get that fever down-"

"Bit hard when it's as high as it is now" Andy piped up seriously, gesturing for James to pass over the washcloth he was holding. He did so, and he and Jeremy stood back and watched as Andy gently wrung it out and then laid the cloth back where James had originally placed it on the apparently boiling skin of Richard's forehead.

"It's almost as hot as that Lambo you had at the track the other week" James commented, shooting Jeremy a wry smile. The distraction worked, and the tallest man immediately went into a massive spiel defending said Lamborghini (which had come dangerously close to catching fire at the track a few weeks ago).

Andy shook his head at just how easily his friend could be set off before he turned his attention back to Richard's limp form in front of him. Turning the cloth over to the cooler side, he was relieved to feel that his skin didn't feel quite so hot as it had before - they were having success, and his fever was starting to come down. 

As he laid the cool, still slightly damp, cloth back onto his friend's skin, he was rewarded with a miserable noise emanating from the younger man's throat as his eyelids continued to flicker - eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks.

"That's it mate, come on" Andy encouraged, somehow managing to speak without interrupting the rather heated discussion carrying on beside them (he thought he heard something about a Maserati in there somewhere, but he couldn't be completely sure).

"Um, guys-" he tried, attempting to regroup their attentions to the matter at hand, when another - blessedly familiar - voice did that for him.

"Can you all shut up? My head's killing me...."

The angry moan brought everyone's attention back to the figure on the floor, where they were greeted with bleary brown eyes blinking sluggishly open. Immediately, Jeremy's face split into a wide grin.

"Hey, welcome back mate!" The volume of his voice made Richard wince as it rocketed through his pounding head, reverberating off the insides of his skull. "Glad you decided to rejoin us, have a nice little nap there? Probably not the best of surfaces, you know-"

"Jeremy" the smaller man croaked, doing his best to glare upwards in Jeremy's general direction, "cark it."

James hid a smirk at that, before he knelt down at Jeremy's side, reaching out and putting a hand on Richard's wrist - right over where his pulse was. "You passed out, Hammond. Nearly broke the coffee table on your way down, and you've been out for about three minutes - we were going to call an ambulance" his voice was quiet, and there was a definite concern and worry lilting through as he spoke.

Groaning again, this time in embarrassment, Richard let his head drift deeper into the jacket it was currently resting on, his eyes tempted to close and his mind eager to return to rest.

"No such luck, I'm afraid mate" Andy's voice piped up from his other side, although Richard was sure he could hear it smiling through the concern. His eyes opened a sliver and he caught their producer's gaze. "I know you're feeling rotten, but we've got a show to finish" the older man continued, squeezing his shoulder in something akin to an apology.

"Screw the show" Richard muttered under his breath - he was really feeling awful, and all he wanted was to curl up in his bed with a thousand blankets and a hot water bottle and never come out again. "Just leave me alone......" he finished with a whine, shivering hard as another chill shot through him.

Regarding him thoughtfully, Jeremy frowned as he took in his younger colleague's washed out features. "Let's just try sitting you up first, and we'll go from there, okay?"

Having no strength left to protest (and realising he actually had no choice in the matter really), their sick friend nodded weakly and allowed them to help him upright - and instantly regretted it.

"Oh my God" he moaned, swallowing desperately and what little colour was in his face draining quicker than water down a sink. "I don't feel so hot....."

Andy raised an eyebrow, keeping his hand on Richard's back steady. He could feel the heat radiating through his jacket and also the minuscule trembles and shivers that wracked his frame every few seconds. "I'm not surprised, you're running one hell of a fever and you've just been unconscious for a good few minutes" he replied, frowning when the small body under his palm shivered once more.

"Urgh, no" was the answering groan, before an ominous burp cut off his reply. Pressing a fist to his mouth, his next words were rushed and slightly strangled, "Um....I think I need a bin-" followed closely by a gagging retch.

With surprisingly quick reflexes that rather contradicted his nickname, James grabbed one from beside a chair and deposited it in his lap. Just in time, as it was not even a second later when Richard's head disappeared beneath the rim and the distinctive sounds of vomiting could be clearly heard in the portacabin. 

"Alright mate, easy" Jeremy's voice was soft and gentle, his hand rubbing in circles across the fever-heated leather as the slight frame under his fingers lurched and heaved with each new effort of his stomach to forcibly evict its contents.

"Don't touch me again unless you want me to puke on you." The other three had to chuckle at the fact that, even in the middle of a vomiting spree, Richard was still as feisty as ever. Even so, Jeremy lifted his hand with a smile and a fond shake of his head.

"Keep your head in there until you're done, then" James ordered, standing and re-wetting the cloth at the sink so that it would be ready when their friend had finished vomiting.

Which he did, thankfully, about a minute later.

"Bloody hell" he muttered thickly, taking the cloth from James and wiping over his sweaty face. "I really don't like being sick...."

Chuckling sympathetically, Andy's hand shifted to squeeze his shoulder. "No one does, mate" he agreed, and they waited in silence for a few minutes for Richard to get his breath back before another attempt at moving was made.

This one was slightly more successful in that it didn't result in another visit to the bin, however they all agreed that he still looked ghastly once he was finally upright.

"You look like shit, Hammo" Jeremy remarked truthfully, and it made them all chuckle - albeit a markedly weak one in Richard's case - and then they began to move towards the hangar.

They were about halfway across the carpark when the smallest of their group suddenly froze.

"What's up?" James asked immediately, almost expecting another collapse.

"I just realised" Richard replied, voice quiet and sounding a bit croaky, "The audience; they're gonna notice this, aren't they?"

Relieved that that's all it was, James shrugged. "It's not really a big deal though, is it? I mean, it's no worse than you usually look, so they'll be used to it."

They all laughed at the weak swipe their sick friend aimed at his shoulder, and even Richard cracked a smile. "Touche" he muttered, coughing into his sleeve.

"Come on, let's go finish off" Jeremy decided, tightening his arm around their little friend's shoulders, "and then we're getting you home and you're not allowed to come back to school until you're completely better!"

Richard couldn't argue with that - mainly because he was currently absorbed in another coughing fit.

*****

Somehow, and none of them could fathom how when they looked back on it later on, they managed to finish the show without any more incidents. Andy had explained the delay to the audience on their return to the hangar and they had all been most sympathetic (although Richard still felt almost uncomfortable at the pitying looks he got throughout the rest of the filming that afternoon).

Finally, the day was over. The audience were heading home - all excitedly chattering about the films they'd seen and showing off the pictures with the trio they'd all had taken (which Richard had still insisted on doing; arguing to James, Jeremy and Andy that some of these people had waited JUST for this, and he wasn't going to pike out for the first time in six years).

At around seven pm, the audience had left and it was just the crew and the boys remaining at Dunsfold Park. Well, James had gone home, but the other two were standing in the carpark having an argument.

"No, I'm fine, really. I can go-"

"Nope. You are not driving anywhere with a fever like that" Jeremy corrected firmly, tightening his hold on Richard's shoulder as he felt the smaller man start to sway a little. "You are not going back to your own flat either - you can come over to mine. I don't trust you to look after yourself properly when you're fully well, let alone half delirious like you are now. Someone needs to keep an eye on you."

Flushing with annoyance, Richard had to concede that Jeremy did have a point - and that, secretly, there was a small part of him that wanted to be cared for and looked after. He just wished he could do that back home in Herefordshire and that that person was Mindy, not in Jeremy's guest bedroom in the ape's flat in London.

Ah well, beggars can't be choosers and all that.

"Fine" he grumbled, shivering again as the chills returned. Jeremy's concerned frown deepened at the sight, the older man biting his lip in frustration at the situation and the fact he couldn't do much to fix it.

"Come on, Hamster; let's get you home" he coaxed gently, putting an arm around his little friend's shoulders and steering him towards his Range Rover.

"Off then?"

Andy's voice rang out from across the carpark, its owner walking over to them with a sympathetic smile curling at his mouth.

"Yep" Jeremy decided he was probably going to need to answer for them both. "Gonna get this little sickie home and into bed."

Even feeling as rotten as he did, Richard still managed to pull a disgusted grimace at his friend's choice of words. If he hadn't still felt like throwing up, he probably would have gagged as well.

"Ape" he croaked, legs shaking from being upright for so long.

Jeremy and Andy clearly noticed this, along with how exhausted he was, and their producer clapped a gentle hand on Richard's shoulder, shooting him an apologetic smile.

"Hey listen, great job today mate" he added, squeezing the shoulder under his hand. "And - for what it's worth - sorry I forced you to keep going."

Richard smiled back weakly. "The show must go on, I s'pose" he replied, shuddering with another chill as a light breeze ruffled his damp hair.

Andy's smile widened and the two of them left him with an exchanged hand shake and a promise from Jeremy to call him later that evening about next week's script. They turned and walked away, heading for Jeremy's parked Range Rover, when Andy's voice called out after them - and they both heard the smile in it this time.

"And, for God's sake; make sure he gets some rest!"

Jeremy raised a hand in acknowledgement, while the hand gesture from Richard was much ruder. Andy just laughed and shook his head, heading back inside the hangar to help the crew pack up.

*****

TBC.....

*****


	2. Caretaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiny warning for a bit of swearing in this one.......a sick Hamster is a cranky, sweary Hamster.....

*****

Jeremy stopped off at Richard's flat on their way back so they could pick up some fresh clothes and a toothbrush. He waited in the living area while his friend found what he needed in his room before they returned to the car and started the remaining four miles to Jeremy's flat.

They'd fought a bit at the start of the journey when Jeremy had turned the air conditioning up to almost its highest setting and pointed the majority of the vents in the smaller man's direction.

"You f-f-uck-k-king m-moron!" Richard had squeaked, shivering hard as the cold air hit his overheated skin, "'M alread-d-y fr-free-heezing!"

"Mate," Jeremy had replied, slowing as he turned out of Dunsfold Park and indicating to go back to the main road, "We need to get your fever down - you're in serious danger of overheating here."

Richard scowled at him, shivering again, but otherwise he'd stayed silent.

And the entire trip to this point had been almost as quiet - aside from the occasional groan as the chills came and went or a mournful whine as aching, shivering limbs were stretched out. Jeremy kept a close side-eye on his friend, even keener now to get back to his flat and help him feel more comfortable.

Finally - just over an hour after they'd left Dunsfold - Jeremy's Range Rover pulled into the driveway of his London flat and he switched off the engine as the car came to a gentle stop.

Glancing sideways at his passenger, he had to chuckle a bit when he saw that Richard was still scowling at him - although the effect was rather diminished by his too-bright eyes and his pink flushed cheeks, and also by the miserable sniffle that broke the silence a few moments later.

"Let's get you inside, mate" he suggested, opening the driver's door and taking the few steps up to the front door of his house. Once he'd unlocked the door, he turned back to make sure Hammond was still following him.

He was, but very slowly and looking like he might fall over any second.

Jeremy almost wanted to go and help, but he knew full well that - while they were potentially being watched, his friend would kick and scrap to keep his independence. More importantly, if there was the potential that they were being watched by the paps, then he knew that there was no way Hammond would accept any form of help.

Even so, he was mildly surprised when - as soon as the front door closed behind them - he wasn't shrugged off when he went to steady his friend as he swayed ominously in the foyer.

"You want a shower or food or anything?" he asked, pretty sure he knew what his friend was going to say.

Sure enough....."I just want to sleep" the slightly whiny, miserable reply tugged at something deep in Jeremy's chest and he couldn't help but feel sorry for his poor friend.

"Come on then" he coaxed, taking Richard's jacket off him and leading him down to the guest room, carrying his overnight bag.

Turning the light on, he turned back to his friend - who was leaning against the doorframe as if it was the only thing holding him up (which, Jeremy supposed sadly, it probably was).

"I'll let you get changed and into bed, and I'll go sort something out in the kitchen" he suggested, getting a silent nod in reply as he left. Remembering how hot the smaller man's skin had felt earlier, he turned the fan on its highest setting before he closed the door behind him.

Left behind in the room, Richard sighed and shivered miserably; he hated being sick, hated it above almost everything else. It always left him feeling needy and miserable and it played horribly with his emotions. It was just awful.

Reluctantly shedding the warmth of his clothes and changing into the pajamas he'd brought from his own flat, he stuffed the shirt, jeans and cowboy boots into his overnight bag and crawled under the covers, already wishing he had a blanket or something warm around him - he was bloody freezing!

"Urgh.....why the fuck's it so cold in here?" Richard groaned, squirming under the sheet and shivering hard as the fan blew more air onto his body. Pulling the sheet up to his chin, he curled into a ball and shot the dark shape that had just re-appeared at the door to the guest room a very dirty look.

"It's not cold in here" Jeremy corrected patiently, walking into the room and placing a cup of water on the bedside table, pointing the straw towards his bed-ridden friend's face. "You have a fever, remember."

As Richard opened his mouth to retort, Jeremy took the moment to shove the straw into his mouth and clamp his jaw shut around it. "And no: you may not have any more blankets" he continued, smirking as brown eyes glared up at him, "Now drink - the last thing you need is to get dehydrated."

Still scowling, Richard obeyed reluctantly; wincing as the water flowed down his throat. Jeremy noticed this, but forced his friend to keep drinking until most of the water was gone. Finally conceding when he could feel the straw being pushed out of Richard's mouth by his tongue, Jeremy set the cup back down on the bedside table and shot the smaller man a smug smile.

"See? Life's so much easier when you cooperate, isn't it?"

He had to laugh as Richard just whacked him on the elbow.

*****

Seeing as it was nearing nine pm, Jeremy decided the best thing for them both would be to get some rest, and so he left his sick friend to sleep and set about getting himself ready for bed. Ordinarily, he was always exhausted after studio recording days, and tonight was no exception - he was asleep almost as soon as his head made contact with his pillow.

He was so exhausted, in fact, that he didn't know what it was that woke him very early the next morning - the sound of his phone ringing incessantly beside his head, or the faint sounds of vomiting from the guest room down the hall.

Deciding to take care of the latter first, Jeremy heaved himself out of bed with a sigh and padded down the hall to the other bedroom, pushing open the door as quietly as he could.

Either by sheer coincidence or otherwise, at the sound of the door opening the vomiting suddenly stopped and he found himself looking down at two very wide, horrified brown eyes that were red and watery and glistening way too bright. On the sheet, down the side of the bed and on the carpet was a reasonable quantity of watery vomit; the smell of it rushing into his nostrils so suddenly that it nearly made him gag.

"...'m sorry Jezz" the tiny whisper brought Jeremy back to his friend, and he instantly felt his heart clench in his chest at the sight of the moisture dripping down bright red cheeks, and the sound of miserable sniffles coming from the general direction of the bed.

Pulling back the soiled sheet, Jeremy immediately sat down and pulled his too-warm friend into his arms, holding his damp head against his chest. His worry spiked a little when - instead of pulling away - the smaller man curled into his arms and buried his face in his shirt, the fabric slowly becoming damper with his sweat and tears. 

"It's alright, mate" he soothed, rubbing a comforting pattern on the trembling back under his hand. "Hey, it's okay; I'm not cross....."

A wet, thick sniffle could be heard from his chest and Jeremy grabbed a few tissues from the box next to the bed and handed them over. "Blow" he instructed gently, followed seconds later by a rather comedic honking noise as his friend obeyed.

"Really am sorry" Richard coughed once he was done, hiding his face against Jeremy's chest and resisting the suddenly strong urge to snuggle with his friend - he was just so warm......

"Hey, I told you it's okay" Jeremy's voice was a reassuring rumble against his ear; quiet, comforting, almost like a security blanket. "You forget that I have raised - and are still raising - three children; it's not the first bit of vomit I've dealt with, I assure you."

Richard still had to resist a flinch at that; knowing it was true didn't stop him feeling a horrid mix of embarrassed and guilty about the situation and he curled up into the warmth and softness of his older friend's chest, a quiet whine escaping before he could stop it.

"You alright now?" Jeremy asked after a few moments of silence, glancing down at the damp head nestled - unconsciously - into his collarbone. The sight made his heart twinge in his chest, but also made him feel more worried (if possible) than before. While his friend was open to hugs and occasionally other affectionate bodily contact, he wasn't the sort of person that would openly go seeking it out from anyone except Mindy or the girls.

You really must be feeling awful if you're willingly seeking out a cuddle, mate he mused to himself. Least of all from me.

"Tell you what" he suggested after a few moments of quiet, letting his arms relax so his friend could pull back (he didn't, but Jeremy kept his arms loose). "How about you go have a shower and freshen up a bit while I take care of this? Then you can crash on the couch for the day and I'll see if I can't dig out Francie's chicken broth recipe."

He had to smile as he felt the smaller man's ears prick up at the mention of food - not feeling too awful then, he supposed.

Chuckling, Jeremy stood and went into the bathroom down the hall, stopping by the linen cupboard on his way and pulling out a clean towel and washcloth. Walking back to the guest room, he was pleased to see Richard had managed to make it to his feet - although he still looked positively ghastly.

"Shit mate, I reckon the white paint on my deck chairs has more colour than your face right now" he observed, walking over and resting the back of his hand on his friend's forehead without waiting for permission. No surprise, it was quite warm; but it seemed slightly cooler than yesterday at least.

"Sorry Jezz" Richard replied, his body language already screaming exhaustion from the few minutes spent upright - although he still shot his friend a cheeky smirk. "I left my paint and brushes at home - otherwise I'd offer to fix that."

Jeremy couldn't help but laugh at Richard's response, and - no doubt about to offer to make do with some old paint he still had from painting his shed - threw an arm around his little friend's shoulders and led him down the hall to the bathroom.

"Just shout if you need anything" he reminded him when they arrived, before adding with a thoughtful smile "And I'll come straight up ready to point and laugh at whatever misfortune has landed upon you."

Knowing his friend was teasing, Richard shooed him out of the bathroom - insisting that he would be more than alright on his own and he didn't need a big oaf standing guard at the door with camera phone and plenty of laughs at the ready. Jeremy just grinned and shut the door before heading back to the guest room.

*****

Thankfully, raising three children had made Jeremy quite adept at the messy task that lay before him, and so he was done surprisingly quickly. The sheets were in the washing machine on a hot cycle (with double the detergent - he wasn't taking any chances), the floorboards wiped and disinfected and the mattress and pillows were being aired thanks to the big windows on both sides of the room and the wonderful breeze flowing through.

He was in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee when the phone rang. Glancing at it in some mild annoyance, he swore under his breath when he saw it was Andy - remembering his promise to phone last night (that he'd completely forgotten about).

"What's up, Wilman?" he asked in greeting, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Well, glad you decided to pick up for once" Andy's reply sounded annoyed, although Jeremy could tell he was smiling. "You know I tried ringing you three times this morning?"

Jeremy shrugged, "Sorry Andy, had my hands a bit tied over here. We didn't get back until late last night and then we had a bit of trouble this morning."

Andy's next reply was rather more sympathetic. "Ah, yes. How is the little fella this morning?"

"It looks like the flu" Jeremy answered, taking another sip of his coffee and pausing as he heard a faint cough from down the hall. "But the poor mite was vomiting again earlier and so I wasn't able to answer my phone."

Andy winced, that sounded awful. "Oh dear; just as well we don't need either of you until Monday or Tuesday, so that should be plenty of time for Hammo to get over this thing and for both of you to be ready and raring to go for the next film."

Jeremy couldn't help but chuckle, "Your sympathy knows no bounds, Wilman."

He heard his friend laugh down the line, before his voice became more subdued. "Seriously, mate. I know I don't have to order you to look after him; just make sure you both come back well on Monday, okay?"

Saluting, Jeremy spotted Richard standing in the doorway into the kitchen, head tilted to the side curiously as he watched the conversation. "Will do, mate. Anyway, I'd better go - I've got a sick, hungry Hamster to feed!"

If his head hadn't hurt so much, Richard would have rolled his eyes at that. He settled for sticking his tongue out at Jeremy instead - which just made the older man chuckle.

Hanging up, he shot his friend a smile - pleased to see that he looked a little better at least. "On the couch with you, then" he ordered, pointing in the direction of the living room. "I'll be through in a minute - just got to put the soup on."

Obeying, Richard shuffled across the tiles onto the soft carpet of the lounge room, eyeing Jeremy's couch with something akin to relief - he was exhausted, and was looking forward to a good lie down.

Once he was on the couch, he curled up in a ball - he still felt cold, despite having just had a warm shower, and the chills were lingering too - and nestled into a cushion, closing his eyes with a miserable sigh.

He'd only meant to rest a little while Jeremy finished sorting out the soup broth for him, but the next thing he knew he was opening his eyes to the sound of the six o'clock BBC news. Blinking blearily at the darkened room, he lifted his head from the soft pillow (when did it turn into a pillow?) and immediately groaned as the room spun around him.

The sound of the groan caught Jeremy's attention and he lowered his book and took off his glasses as he looked across at his friend. Immediately smiling when he saw he was awake, he leaned forward and muted the television (although that might have been because Piers Morgan showed up on the screen), standing up out of his chair and crouching next to the sofa.

"Evening, sleepy head" he greeted, keeping his voice low - though Richard could see his eyes sparkling in the low light of the room. "Good nap, was it?"

"It was until I woke up and saw you" he shot back in kind, letting his head slowly rest back into the pillow.

Jeremy laughed at that - a sarcastic Hammond was one that was feeling better, he decided. "You must have needed it though - I couldn't even wake you up for food at lunch time!"

Yawning, Richard rubbed a tired hand across his eyes. "I do feel a bit better for it, at least" he noted, blinking sleepily up at his friend, "Though I definitely wouldn't say no to another twelve hours."

Standing, Jeremy walked out of eye-shot for a few moments, returning with a steaming bowl of broth - Richard's stomach growled just looking at it; he loved Francie's recipe, and knew that Jeremy was secretly a closeted cook in his downtime, so he was quite looking forward to a bit of tasty nosh.

Seeing his friend's expression brighten at the sight of the food, Jeremy had to chuckle as he set it down on a tray and let it rest on the coffee table. Slowly but eagerly, his friend eased into an upright position and the taller man passed over the tray.

While the soup was being eaten, Jeremy turned the volume back up on the news and they both watched the stories of the day run across the screen while the newsreaders droned on about something else completely uninteresting.

When the news finally finished at around seven, Jeremy glanced over at the sofa and smiled at the sight that greeted him.

Having only half-finished the soup broth, Richard's head was laying back against the armrest of the couch, eyes closed and mouth open slightly - his quiet snores gently wafting over to Jeremy's ears. The bowl lay precariously on the tray which was somehow balancing on the lap of his sleeping friend, spoon still in his hand - although this was now hanging over the edge of the couch and almost touching the floor.

Eyes crinkling at the edges as his smile became increasingly fond, he turned off the television and tiptoed over to his friend. Gently lifting the tray off his lap, he was surprised when Richard barely stirred - he just snuffled and turned over in his sleep so that he was now facing the open side of the couch. Placing the tray back on the coffee table, he carefully prized the spoon from his loose grip and placed it on the tray as well. Taking the whole lot back into the kitchen, he put some Gladwrap over the bowl and put it in the fridge, and put the spoon and tray in the dishwasher.

Walking back into the living room, he sighed and stood at the foot of the couch, contemplating his next move.

"You do realise that this means you'll be sleeping out here tonight then?" he muttered quietly, desperate to let his sick friend sleep. "Cause you know I'm not carrying you...."

"Yeah, I don't fancy being dropped on my head" a second voice piped up tiredly from in front of him. 

Jeremy raised his eyebrows in not-quite-surprise. "I thought you were asleep?" he queried, voice returning to a more normal volume.

Blinking slowly awake, Richard shook his head carefully, wincing when said part of his body began to throb dully. "Just dozing, I think" he replied, yawning again before his eyes met Jeremy's with a miserable shimmer in their depths.

"Well, come on then" his taller friend announced, and before Richard had a chance to protest he'd been scooped up into a sort of bridal style lift and was being carried out of the living room and down the hall.

"Thought you said you weren't carrying me?" he cheekily pointed out, even as he let his head come to rest on Jeremy's shoulder with a quiet sigh.

Jeremy shrugged, adjusting his hold on his friend so he wouldn't drop him. "I lied. Though, you are bloody heavy, you know?"

That got a smirk from his shoulder, and then Jeremy felt the familiar tickling sensation of hair resting against his neck. "Comfy, Hammond?" he asked, pausing to turn on the light in the guest room.

"Mm hmm" was the sleepy mumble of a reply he got, which just made him smile. Walking as steadily as he could over to the bed, he laid his ill friend on the mattress and gently guided his head onto the pillow. As he pulled the covers over Richard's curled form, he let one hand linger on his shoulder and his thumb began unconsciously rubbing the cool fabric.

"Sleep tight, mate" he whispered, though he suspected his friend was already asleep - a suspicion confirmed moments later by the sound of soft, congested snores reaching his ears. "You know where to find me if you need anything." 

He wasn't really surprised when he got no answer.

Smoothing the covers, he stood up and tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door just ajar behind him, and went back to the living room to spend a few quality hours with the television and his book that he'd been reading earlier - he was looking forward to a nice, quiet evening.

Shame that isn't what he got......

*****

To be concluded.....

*****


	3. Welcome Respite

It was very dark in the room when Richard next opened his eyes. He could just make out the sounds of rain gently pattering on the tiles of the roof, and hear the soft chirping of some birds outside the window to his left. The enchanting petrichor and wonderful coolness of the breeze that accompanied it felt so refreshing against the stickiness of his damp skin, and he took a few seconds to revel in the relief that they brought.

Blinking sluggishly, he waited a moment for his surroundings to come into better focus, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could just make out a familiar shape lounging in a chair (which he belatedly recognised as one coming from the dining area) just beside the bed, snoring in a deep, somewhat comforting rumble.

"Je-cough - Jezz?" his voice was hoarse, and it hurt to speak, but somehow the sound reached the slumbering Jeremy - who snorted awake as soon as he heard it. He blinked owlishly in the dark for a few moments as his eyes tried to find the source of the noise - but as soon as he saw that Richard was awake, he grinned tiredly and got up; perching on the side of the bed and resting the back of a hand against his forehead.

"Well, it's about time you decided to rejoin us" he commented dryly, though there was a distinct undercurrent of relief in his voice. "You've been pretty out of it since late Thursday night - proper delirious, I mean; you were making even less sense than usual."

Frowning in confusion, Richard opened his mouth to ask what day it was but Jeremy beat him to it. "It's about- uh....5 o'clock on Sunday morning before you ask."

Slightly flabbergasted, the smaller man's mouth fell further open and his eyes widened. "I've- it's- huh?"

Jeremy chuckled at his inability to put voice to his surprise and confusion, running a tired hand across his face and his other hand adjusting the blanket slightly. "Yeah; had James and I quite worried a few times."

At that, Richard's head tilted ever so slightly to the side, surprise and confusion warring for his expression. "James was here?"

Jeremy nodded. "He offered to keep an eye on you yesterday while I had a meeting at the BBC. You might have to apologise to him later though - apparently you've got one hell of a kick on you."

He had to laugh a little when he saw his friend's eyes widen in alarm and slight horror. "Don't worry, Hamster; he dodged it pretty well - you just left a bit of red mark. He's just being a big wet as usual" he assured, holding up a placating hand. "You know what he's like."

Humming in agreement, Richard opened his mouth to say something else; but as he drew breath to speak, the movement of air against his dry, sore throat set off a gurgling coughing fit. Wincing sympathetically, Jeremy rubbed his little friend's back gently until he was done, and then he saw Richard gesturing wordlessly towards the cup on the bedside table.

He quickly passed over the cup, offering up the straw and a flicker of relief shone in his eyes as his friend immediately began to drink. "Steady, Hammo" he warned, and thankfully the smaller man slowed down a little. "I know you're thirsty but you need to take it easy - you'll just make yourself sick again otherwise."

Obeying, Richard carefully sipped the water until the cup was empty, and then let his upper body fall back onto the pillows - utterly worn out and eyes now struggling to stay open.

Almost on instinct, Jeremy lifted a hand and started rubbing warm circles across his friend's shoulders - smiling internally at the contented purring noise he got in response; the noise he made (according to Mindy anyway) whenever he was properly content and comfortable. Jeremy himself had only heard it once before; back in Botswana around the campfire one night, and Richard had accidentally fallen asleep on his shoulder (he had to smile a bit just at the memory).

"Your fever broke properly about two hours ago and this is the first time you've been even halfway lucid since" he continued after a few moments of quiet, shuddering privately as the memories of the past few days hung around at the edges of his mind.

Thankfully, he mused gratefully, Richard was too exhausted (and comfortable) to notice.

Chuckling at the sight of his friend's eyes barely managing to keep from closing, Jeremy turned off the bedside lamp and pulled the light blanket up around his shoulders - now that the fever had broken the last thing they needed was for Richard to catch a chill on the rebound.

"Go back to sleep, Hammo" he whispered gently, pushing some damp hair off the little one's forehead. "Just rest - we're not going anywhere."

When the answering snore reached his ears, Jeremy smiled and left the room - keen to catch some z's of his own now that the immediate danger seemed to have passed. Collapsing onto his own bed, he too was asleep in minutes.

*****

For the rest of the day, both Jeremy and Richard slept. Jeremy, in fact, slept right up until he heard his phone ringing next to his head.

"H'lo?" he grumbled, rubbing a hand across his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up properly and just barely managing to stifle a yawn.

"Well, this is pleasant" James' snarky response didn't quite mask the smile he was sure the other man was wearing. "Not disturbing anything, am I?"

Jeremy groaned internally as he remembered their plan to watch the episode tonight at his house. James and Andy were expected between now- um....what time was it again?

Glancing across as his alarm, he was surprised to see that it was nearly six-thirty in the afternoon: half an hour since James had said he would be there.

"Be out in a sec, May" he muttered, before hanging up. He was sure he could hear James rolling his eyes from here.

Nevertheless, he got out of bed and threw on a light sweater - it was a bit cool tonight, thanks to the earlier rain - and padded out to the front door in his socks. When he opened the door, he was greeted by James wearing his motorbike leathers and holding a paper bag (which Jeremy guessed, correctly, contained beer).

James raised an eyebrow at his friend's slightly ruffled appearance, a smirk pulling at his lips. "You sure I wasn't interrupting anything, Jezza?" he teased, laughing as his taller friend began to splutter indignantly.

"Relax, you wazzock - I'm just having a go." Now more awake, Jeremy picked up on his friend's clearly-teasing tone and just shot him the bird as he stood aside and let him into the flat.

Once the door was shut behind them, and James had hung up his leather coat and taken off his boots, the pair of them walked into the kitchen. Suddenly remembering that he was responsible for getting food in, Jeremy picked up the landline phone and quickly got onto the local chippie just down the road. He was good friends with the owner, and the lovely man on the other end assured him that the food would most definitely be ready and delivered within the half-hour.

Smiling to himself as he placed the phone back in its holder, Jeremy checked his watch: quarter to seven, Andy would be there shortly.

James - while this had been happening - had sat down at the breakfast bar and had taken a beer out of the paper bag. Swallowing his latest swig, he glanced into the living area and then around the rest of the open room, as if looking for something.

"Where's Hammond?" he asked, gaze returning to Jeremy's.

Taking his own beer and slumping into another chair at the table, Jeremy shrugged. "Probably still asleep - poor bugger's totally had it."

Humming thoughtfully, James took another sip of beer, and the two of them sat in silence for about five minutes before Jeremy spoke up - tone light and teasing.

"How's the bruise, by the way?"

James rolled his eyes and threw him a subtle finger as he took another swig of beer, finishing the bottle. Deciding against taking another - since he was riding home - he stood and went to the sink to rinse the bottle and put it in the recycling container that Jeremy had in his kitchen. On his way past, he flicked the switch on the kettle (this made Jeremy roll his own eyes).

"Glad to see you're making yourself at home" he muttered, though he hid a grin as James just blinked incredulously at him from under his bangs of hair. "What? You come here and within fifteen minutes you've completely commandeered my kitchen?"

"I brought you beer!" James retorted, washing his hands in the sink and drying them on the towel beside the oven. "That's got to count for something, hasn't it?"

Jeremy was about to reply with an equally childish retort when the sound of unsteadily padding footsteps and a familiar cough brought both of their attentions to the hall. When Richard emerged into the archway and into the kitchen - bleary-eyed, red-nosed, hair tousled and with a blanket around his shoulders like a cape (the end of which was dragging along the carpet because it was just a tad too long) - the pair of them realised belatedly that their voices must have risen enough to wake him up.

"Shit" Jeremy grimaced, voice and expression turning guilty and apologetic. "We didn't wake you up, did we?"

For a moment, it seemed that Richard was about to say that they had, but he just coughed quietly into his sleeve and shook his head. "Was already awake" he croaked, "needed bathroom" he added, blushing furiously as the other two shared a grin at his expense.

"Glad to see you up and about though" James commented with a warm smile, "how're you doing?"

Richard shrugged tiredly. "Still pretty wobbly and shaky, and like I need another two days of sleep, but we're getting there" he replied, sniffling thickly and rubbing a sleeve against his shining red nose.

"Oh for goodness' sake, use a tissue Hammond" James grumbled,rolling his eyes in disgust and sliding the box along the counter towards him. Richard glared at him, but did so - his nose making a rather comedic honking noise as he blew (which made James and Jeremy snort with laughter).

"By siduses ate be" he muttered thickly, scrunching the tissues up and dropping them in the other bin at his feet. Clearing his throat, he added after another subtle sniff "feels better now though."

Clearly happy with that, James went over to the kettle and poured out his tea. The doorbell rang and Jeremy went to answer it - announcing moments later that their dinner had arrived - and Richard made his way into the living room and onto the couch, not really feeling much like eating.

As if sensing this, the other two didn't even try to force any food into him, and ate their own fish and chips in silence. They made sure to save enough for Andy when he eventually arrived, and then Jeremy went into the living room and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch to where Richard was curled.

Turning the television on before he sat down, Jeremy took another swig of his beer and proceeded to relax back into the cushions as the repeat of the news was finishing. The show would be starting at seven (thanks to some tournament or other that had shot them forward in the schedule), and it was now five minutes to it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy spotted tiny movement from the body next to him. Keeping his gaze fixed on the screen in front of him, he waited patiently - sure enough, seconds later there was another movement; a minute shuffle in his direction.

The side of his mouth that he knew Richard couldn't see turned up a little, though he kept his eyes trained on the television.

Another shuffle, this one slightly more noticeable - it was as if his friend was testing the waters, afraid of outright asking for fear of humiliation or some sort of rejection (especially since James was also in earshot). 

And so Jeremy waited, shifting his own position to appear slightly more open - his left arm slung casually over the back of the couch and his body turned slightly to the left as well. 

More shuffling, and now Jeremy decided to just ask - he glanced down at his friend, raising an eyebrow. Thinking he'd been caught out, Richard just looked up at him briefly before his eyes turned slightly sad and he settled where he was, curling into a small ball and laying his head down on the cushion nearby with a tiny sigh.

Jeremy could see he wasn't entirely comfortable, so he reached over and gently pulled the smaller man into his chest - his friend letting out a slightly surprised squeak before he realised what was happening and, once Jeremy had pulled him into his side, he nestled in; resting his head on the older man's chest and letting out a contented sigh.

"You could've just asked" Jeremy murmured quietly, keen for James not to hear them from the kitchen (where he was making yet another cup of tea for himself, he guessed). "I wouldn't have said no."

He felt Richard shrug meekly against his side before he shifted his head slightly to a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. "Oh w'll" he mumbled, voice muffled against Jeremy's shirt.

Moments later, he was fast asleep and snoring quietly.

And so when James came back in from the kitchen - steaming tea in hand - he stopped short in the archway at the sight that greeted him. Tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows as Jeremy met his gaze, the other man shook his head minutely - putting a finger to his lips.

"You know" James began, smiling coyly even as he tried to keep his voice at a whisper, "if you and Hammond wanted some time to yourselves you should have just said so."

If Jeremy didn't have his arms full of sleeping hamster at that moment, he would have thrown something at him.

"Idiot" he retorted, keeping his voice as quiet as he could. "This is-"

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Without speaking - although he was still smiling - James stood and padded quietly out to the hall. There was the sound of very quiet conversation, before footsteps could be heard returning to the living area. Glancing out of the corner of his eye over the back of the couch, Jeremy spotted James and Andy walking into the room. He shot his old friend a smile and made a shushing motion with his finger, pointing down at his shoulder.

Andy nodded, smiling fondly as he reached the back of the couch and looked down at them. "James wasn't lying then - although this wasn't the idea I had in my head of you two sleeping together, I'll be honest."

Rolling his eyes, Jeremy just gave him the finger as Andy chuckled and walked around the couch before making himself comfortable in the other recliner. 

"Seriously though" Jeremy warned gently when the other two had returned to their seats and the television volume had been sufficiently increased, "either of you wake him up and you'll be shoveling my dog's shit out of your boots for the next week."

Holding up his hands in surrender, Andy stole the remote and sneakily turned the volume up slightly on the television. Seven o'clock was just rolling around and it was nearly time for the show to start. Sure enough, seconds later, the comforting, familiar sounds of the opening theme could be heard in the little room, and they all settled down to watch.

Not surprisingly, Richard slept through the entire thing - snoring quietly on Jeremy's chest and occasionally snuggling deeper into his shoulder or shifting into a more comfortable position. James and Andy - mercifully - stayed quiet, though Jeremy did catch them exchanging evil smiles every so often.

Mind, he knew he would be doing exactly the same, and so he said nothing.

When the show ended at eight, James and Andy bid their quiet farewells, seeing themselves out with a promise to see them both on Wednesday and a friendly wave. Andy also had a quiet word with Jeremy about postponing the shoot that was supposed to be happening tomorrow until later in the week.

"Give him a few days to properly get over this, we can push filming back till Friday - no stress" he'd whispered, giving their slumbering friend's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he spoke. They'd both laughed quietly as Richard's response had been a snuffly huff as he'd reached up and attempted to bat Andy's hand away - somehow remaining asleep the entire time.

Now alone in the flat, Jeremy sighed contentedly as he let his head rest against the back of the couch, listening to the sounds of sleeping hamster coming from his arms. His own eyelids were feeling increasingly heavy, and he imagined that he would also be asleep very shortly if he didn't make a move.

"Thing is" he whispered, shifting ever so slightly and adjusting his hold on his friend, "I really don't want to disturb you now. I don't think I've seen you look so peaceful since you've been sick."

A quiet hum could be heard from his chest before he felt Richard's hair tickle his neck. Absent-mindedly, he lifted the hand from his friend's shoulder and started running his fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. "You need a haircut, Hamster" he muttered fondly, a small smile curling at his lips when his younger friend squeaked indignantly in his sleep.

"You do" he retorted softly, before he surprised himself by yawning. "Bloody hell, you've worn me out and neither of us has done anything but sleep all day!"

Richard just snored at that.

Jeremy sighed in resignation, and - despite knowing that his back would hate him for doing so - settled into the comfort of the couch and closed his own eyes, even as a tiny smile crept onto his face at the return of the contented purring sound, the body under his hands vibrating with the noise.

"Good night, you" he muttered, still smiling as he too drifted off to sleep.

And Richard - who had woken briefly when Jeremy had moved him - smiled to himself too and snuggled back down into the warmth and safety of his friend's arms, falling back asleep again in seconds.

*****

END

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! May your 2019 be everything you want it to be, and more.


End file.
